her arm, caused it to rise, rigid and clamped on the pistol's handle, and influenced the squeeze of the trigger finger as he lectured her in the mechanism and technique of the one, taken weapon on the afternoon after they had possessed it. A terrible and beautiful and desperate secret he had given to her; a secret to be shared by only three others. And he had nurtured her strength, watering and feeding it over the years, till she was capable of participation. No boy, neither with love nor lust, could hold her as the other three had in the hut before they went to search out the policeman. Impossible to match and measure any sensation against the supreme shared orgasm of the cell at that moment of firing. And never a conversation, nor a moment, nor an oocasion when she believed she had taken the supreme step over the abyss. Just a logical progression. Then Isaac, standing outside her classroom door, arresting her as she hurried for the next lecture, waiting for her, waiting with the unspoken news. But in his eyes the message that there was catastrophe.
The three of them were together now, sitting crosslegged or sprawled on the bare boards of the floor. David was talking.
'We must continue the fight, we must not give way to them. Whatever they do to us we must not allow them to destroy the group. If we have to go underground then that is what it shall be. If we have to try to go abroad then we must attempt it, through Czechoslovakia or Rumania. We must not lie down…' Rebecca had not heard him talk in this way before, realizing that he had no plan, nothing to offer. There was a strain in his voice, and he spoke louder than the level to which she was accustomed, his words coming staccato as if only through speech could he believe in himself. And Isaac was fidgeting and restless, unable to hide his frustration.
'We have not the wherewithal to fight – no equipment,' said Isaac. They would hunt us till we were run down. Always they would be after us. We could not strike back.'
'It is certain they have Moses?' asked Rebecca, seeking the consolation that would come if there were any hesitation in the reply, and knowing from the way David ignored her that there could be none.
'We cannot just surrender,' said David. 'Not just because they have taken Moses…'
'Forget Moses, obliterate Moses. He's in a cell now, screaming to them, and it was he who lost his clothing, the one that could not hold the gun…' Isaac was shouting. And David shouting louder.
'You cannot say that. How can you say that?'
'Because it is true. Because he has no further part to play with us. Because it is as if he had never been part of us.' Isaac steadied, swept the control back through himself. He had no wish to launch his idea in controversy; he wanted their minds receptive. 'We could fly out,' he spoke with great deliberation. 'We could take a plane. We have a gun. It has happened before.. '
'Impossible, we could never…'
'Where would we go…?'
'… and it has been successful, and…'
'How to get aboard? You cannot just carry guns..
'We have no time to plan…'
'… we could do it. Don't you see the possibility, don't you see the opportunity?'
They had all shouted together, each seeking to denounce the words of the other, their minds racing with objections, clarifications. And then silence. Isaac, his mouth closed, but smiling and knowing that by accident he had chosen his moment well. David blinking and trying to think through the turmoil in his mind. Rebecca shuffling on the boards, wanting to speak again, not knowing what to say.
When Isaac spoke again it was still slowly, demanding no interruption, assessing his right to be heard out. 'We can take a plane. Fly it out. To the West. Then on to Israel. All of us together we can go to Israel. We have not much time, and we would have much to do in preparation, but it could be done. And none of us has another thought, any other prospect.'
It seemed an age to David since he had listened to the ideas of another member of the group.
He was strained, choked with the words that were hard to enunciate, and bowing his head in a gesture of deference.
'We are listening. We want to know what you have thought of. Tell us.'
There was a hesitation, then Isaac began to speak.
'We have to take a plane. Divert it from an internal flight, because it is easier for us to buy the tickets for a flight inside Russia. We have to find one that has the range to take us to the West. To the BDR, or to Greece, or to Italy – it is not important. There are many places. Once we have landed and we are beyond their reach it does not matter. From there we can go to Israel. We should not fly directly there. Two reasons. It would be hard to find a plane with the necessary fuel, and too long we would spend over our airspace, and that of our friends and comrades.'
Sarcasm and confidence, Isaac blossoming at his opportunity of holding the ring. 'First to the West, the nearest frontier, the nearest landfall, reach it while they are still confused, and there we will find petrol and friendship. We already have the gun, and one gun is enough if it is in the cockpit, beside the pilot. They cannot risk anything, not with the passengers to think of. They must follow our instructions. And we must go tomorrow. It will involve other people. All our parents have their savings and we will need those. We must have that money for the tickets. They are all good people – David's, Rebecca's, mine… if we ask they will not query, they will know there is necessity, they need not know the reason. David, it was you that said we cannot just remain here, waiting for them to come for us. We are agreed on that. We have to go, and this is the way to go.'
'I have never been in a plane,' Rebecca said. And the two men laughed at the innocence of the remark, breaking the tension.
'We must have tickets. There is no other way,' Isaac went on. T have been to the airport at Kiev twice to fly when we have had holidays, student holidays on the southern coast. It would not be possible just to run to a boarding plane and climb aboard. Too many guards, and all armed, and there is no access to the place where the planes are parked. We would have to board as normal passengers. No other option. But there will be no problem, not if the destination of the plane is far from the frontiers. And if there is suspicion then a bribe will see us through.
'We let the plane get airborne, let the pilot start his journey, then we rush the cockpit. After that it is simple.' He paused, looking from David to Rebecca, stared hard at their eyes, burning the doubt from them. 'That is my plan. And what else can we achieve? Surely this is the gesture, on the grand scale, beyond the life of a mere policeman. Beyond the lives of a hundred policemen.
People in many countries will know that the Jews of Russia are not dead and lifeless people, that we have something left to offer.'
'We would need more guns,' said David, pensive now and far away. The primary decision had been taken and he was seeking the answers to the questions of detail.
'We have one gun…' resentment from Isaac.
'We do not attack you, Isaac.' David was quick to calm him. 'I think I know where, and without risk. But we must have more. I think I know where it is possible.'
'In the West they have checks and searches – we have heard that on the radio. Because of the Palestinians they take precautions that people do not carry guns on to the planes. And it is the same here.' Her first intervention, and Rebecca hacking at the artery of the plan, where Isaac had been vague, because he did not possess the answer.
'They have checks,' 'Isaac conceded.
'How do we get past them?'
Isaac paused, aggression pushing out his jaw, hardening it, 'I don't know. I have not had time to think of the small points.'
David smiled, as if he were the old one among them, and solutions were more simple to him than the others. Not that there was any significant age difference, just that he was accustomed to taking control and the uncertainties of the last few minutes were banished. 'There was a report on the BBC many months ago. One of the planes, a British one, was taken by the Arab terrorists.
There had been great security at the airport, all the passengers were thoroughly searched, and yet they had their guns when it came to the moment of taking the plane. The way they did it was simple. They had a friend, a friend who worked at the airport, and was therefore outside suspicion. It was he who placed the guns on board and hid them, all long before the passengers boarded. What had the Arabs to do? Only to go to a prearranged seat and find the bags. It was all on the BBC. And there is a man who is known to us, isn't there? Yevsei Allon, isn't that the
